


A World Alone

by 1980shorrorfilm



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, I'm so soft for them, Modern AU, canon in terms of supernatural timeline and events, some descriptions of injuries but nothing too in depth, they're like 17 in this and have been dating for a few years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 18:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20586881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1980shorrorfilm/pseuds/1980shorrorfilm
Summary: It’s four-eighteen on a Sunday afternoon when Jane’s world crumbles around her again. Only this time, there’s no Upside Down, no monsters, no government lackeys; there’s just three delivered, but unanswered texts to her girlfriend, and the words ‘Max’ and ‘car accident’ and ‘I’m sorry’ coming from Hopper’s end of the phone line.





	A World Alone

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i have a shit ton of elmax fic in a folder that i've been working on, so here's one i've been writing over the course of a couple weeks and finally finished. 
> 
> the title is from a world alone by lorde. 
> 
> enjoy, and please, comments and kudos are appreciated.

It’s four-eighteen on a Sunday afternoon when Jane’s world crumbles around her again. Only this time, there’s no Upside Down, no monsters, no government lackeys; there’s just three delivered, but unanswered texts to her girlfriend, and the words _ ‘Max’ _ and ‘ _ car accident’ _ and ‘ _ I’m sorry _’ coming from Hopper’s end of the phone line. He tells her he’ll come pick her up and bring her to the hospital when he can, but Jane refuses, begging him to stay there. She can’t stand the thought of Max being there alone.

She can’t stand the thought of Max being there, period. 

He tells her that he loves her and hangs up, and then she’s trying to text Will with fingers that won’t move and then her feet are stuck even though she’s ready to _ run _ all the way to the hospital. To _ Max. _

Joyce finds her a minute later, clinging to her phone as strangled sobs force their way out of her tightening throat. She tries to tell Joyce, ask her to take her to the hospital, but nothing comes out of her mouth except Max’s name. Joyce understands somehow, and gently pushes El towards her shoes and jacket, but once Jane is able to move she bolts for the door without either. Joyce rushes after her in a tangled mess of half-on coat and untied boots, but she pulls herself into the driver’s seat and lets the car roar to life while El shivers on the passenger side. 

It’s barely two miles to Hawkins Memorial from their house, but Jane’s mind stretches the minutes into hours; it reminds her of when Max took her to a candy store in the city last spring. 

_ There was a small man in a big hat, pulling blobs of colorful taffy into long ropes, and she was entranced with it. It took the slightly disorienting flash of Max’s camera for El to pull her eyes away. She knows for a fact that that picture of her sits on the dresser in Max’s room. Honestly, Jane has Max’s entire room memorized. Despite Jane’s general distaste for the Hargrove house, she loves Max’s room; so many good things have happened to them in that room. _

Their friendship really started in that room; a pissed-off Max paced the room and explained to Jane all the good things that exist outside of Mike and boys, while Jane sat on the bed and watched her eyes darken and eyebrows pinch as she grew more emphatic about the subject.

_ It’s where Max read her comic books and introduced her to Wonder Woman and where they slept next to each other and woke up with their hands intertwined. _

_ It’s where they kissed for the first time when they were fourteen; sweet and tentative and affirming. Jane had just broken up with Mike because he told her that he loved her and she realized that maybe she liked her best friend just a little too much. Then she was texting Max and climbing through her window at what was nearly midnight. Max was nervous and blushing and fiddling with the strings on her shorts as she rambled, and when she reached a point of no return, Jane leaned over on the bed and pressed their lips together. She smelled like vanilla and tasted like cherries and that was the first time Jane fell in love with her best friend. _

“Honey, we’re here.” Joyce goes to lay a hand on her shoulder, but as soon as Jane feels the car slow to a stop she’s opening her door and running toward the entrance. It’s freezing and icy and she’s still not wearing shoes. The doors glide open and she’s running so fast she misses the wet floor sign and her body slams down on the linoleum. She vaguely registers people asking if she’s okay as she charges toward the front desk. 

“Can I help you, Sweetie?” The woman asks with concern, but even in her haze, El doesn’t miss the way her hand hovers over the emergency security button. 

“My girlfriend,” Jane gasps. The word comes out of her mouth easily, even if she doesn’t say it very often. She and Max aren’t a secret by any means, but sometimes it seems like Hawkins is still stuck in the eighties, so they don’t usually go around announcing it. Right now, though, she doesn’t care about what anyone thinks of her and her relationship. She needs Max alive and okay. She just needs Max. “M-Max Mayfield. Maxine Mayfield. I- car accident.” 

The receptionist’s shoulders slump a little and she moves her hand away from the button. She sighs heavily, full of pity. Jane doesn’t want sympathy; she wants them to make Max okay. Her eyes flit to a computer screen and back to Jane. “I’m sorry, ma’am, only immediate—” 

“Her family’s not here! My dad was a first responder… brought her in— Chief Hopper.”

“Oh, I see. You must be Jane, then?” The woman’s fingers jab a few keys on the computer and Jane doesn’t bother with replying. “She’s in room 134 in the B-wing. I don’t believe she’s taking visitors at the moment so—” 

Jane is already running down the hall. 

She barrels into the waiting room at the far end of the corridor where Hopper is pacing, and he quickly reaches to steady her shoulders when Jane nearly crashes into him. 

“Fuck! Sorry!” She groans as she collapses into his arms. Tears are dripping down Jane’s cheeks and seeping into the rough fabric of his uniform shirt and she’s thankful he doesn’t have the heart to reprimand her on her language. “Hop, is Max—”

Hopper rubs soothing circles on her back through the fabric of her flannel, clearing his throat. “Max is busted up pretty badly, but she’s stable. She’s not awake, though.” 

“I need to see Max. I _ need _ Max, Hop.”

“I know, kid. I know. You can soon.” He pulls out of El’s embrace to look at her. “Shit, El, where’s your jacket? And your shoes?” 

“Jane! God, there you are!” Joyce pulls both of them into a hug and El feels her kiss the top of her hair. “Hop, she ran to the car before I could—” 

  
“No, it’s alright,” Jim assures Joyce, and El hears him call out to a nurse, asking for some socks for her. Joyce and Hopper are talking back and forth. Joyce texted Will and told him to tell the others. Hopper says Max’s mom is away; Neil is MIA, probably drunk off his ass somewhere. _ Not that he’d give a shit about her if he was sober, _Jane thinks bitterly. Hop comes back over to her a minute later, awkwardly pulling itchy hospital socks onto her bare feet and slinging his heavy police coat over her shoulders. His coat smells like coffee and cigarettes. The smell pushes another fond memory to the front of Jane’s mind. 

_ Last year, she snuck a pack of Camels from the cabinet behind the sink that Hopper thinks is a hiding spot, texted Max, and climbed up the four flights of stairs to the roof of the movie theater where Steve and Robin work. She found the redhead leaning against the wall, eyes closed, with two lattes from Benny’s sitting in a drink carrier in her lap. _

_ “I said nicotine, not caffeine.” Jane chuckled as she pulled the pack from her pocket and plopped down next to her. Max only hummed and looked over at her for a moment, letting a lazy smile stretch across her face. _

_ “Alright, and I brought the good stuff for when you realize that cigarettes are nasty as shit.” _

More tears stream down Jane’s face as she sits on the waiting room floor, wrapped in her father’s coat. Pulling her knees against her chest, she lets her head fall against them and wills the music pulsing through her earbuds louder. It’s something Max recommended, of course. She’s a bit of a music snob— plenty of classics, but an ear for the new stuff too— and she’s always sending Jane links and dragging her to antique stores to go hunting for vinyl with so much enthusiasm that El can’t help but return it. Some of the best nights she’s ever had were spent on the floor of her bedroom, sharing earbuds and hushed whispers as Max introduced her to entire new worlds. She’d heard music before, of course, even in the lab, but she’d never heard music like _ that. _

Music that made her_ feel something. _

And though she’s never told her, El thinks that, maybe, all those nights ago, it was just Max making her feel those things. 

“Kid.” Hopper pulls her earbud out, shaking her shoulder. “Get up, c’mon.” 

Jane bolts up from the ground, stumbling as her socked feet slide on the slick linoleum. “Can I see Max?” 

“Yeah, we can go see her now.” Hop keeps a steady hand on Jane’s shoulder, balancing her as they make their way across the floor. 

“_ Max,” _ Jane urges. The vagueness of ‘her’ makes Max sound less important, somehow. Like she’s just a nobody. But she’s not; Max is _ everything _and Jane will be damned if she lets anyone tell her otherwise. She shoves her earbuds into her pocket in a tangled mess that would make Max cringe, but her hands are shaking too badly to wrap them up properly. El almost to the door now when Hopper stops her, stepping in front of her with a serious look. She’s three feet away from Max, and he wants to keep her away. 

“Hold on a sec, kid.” 

“What? No.” Jane shoves at his chest, trying to push past him into the room.

Hop huffs, steadying himself as she pushes him again. “I just want to—” 

“What the hell, Hop?”

“Kid, just—”

“_ Move _.” Jane’s voice is steely, even as more tears trace down her cheeks, and she struggles against him as tries to keep her from the door. In a split second, she looks around the room and finds it empty, save for her, Hopper and Joyce, and then, with a flick of her wrist, Hopper is being shoved backwards into the peeling wallpaper. Joyce calls his name as she lets go of Jane’s wrist and rushes over to him, leaving the doorway clear for the girl. She practically runs to the door, but it’s like hitting a wall as soon as she steps into the room. 

The air is thick and there’s a nurse scribbling on a clipboard, and when she looks up at El, there’s too much pity in her eyes. Immediately, her mind goes to the worst possible place. Max is always there when El gets like this, but that’s kind of the problem, isn’t it? Jane is on the brink of losing the most important person in her life, and she’s spiraling, but the only person who can bring her out of that spiral is lying motionless in a hospital bed six feet in front of her. 

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down to avoid disturbing the patient.” She says calmly. _ Patient. Her name is Max. _She steps closer to Jane, caging her in the doorway so she can’t see Max or get to her.

“I’m trying. Please, _ please _ just let me see Max,” Jane pleads. She’s exhausted and she’s scared and she just wants— she _ needs _to see her girlfriend. The nurse sighs, eyes scanning her clipboard again. 

“She’s not awake, but she should be soon. The doctors are going to be in and out periodically, so as long as you stay out of their way, it should be alright.” She looks behind Jane, where Joyce and Hopper stand together in the doorway. She nods at them in acknowledgment. “The doctor can give you a full scope of Miss Mayfield’s injuries when he comes back.”

“Thank you,” Joyce tells her, offering a polite smile to the woman. 

“I’ll leave you all to it, then.” She finally steps out of the way and Jane’s whole world goes quiet when she finally catches a glimpse of Max. Her feet slide on the floor again, and the only thing that keeps her upright is Hopper’s arm wrapped strongly around her shoulders. 

The body lying in the hospital bed is still and quiet and cold and almost lifeless— the opposite of everything Max encompasses. Everything she is. Max is warm; warmer than the gloriously sunny week they spent in California last spring break. She’s never still; she’s always on her skateboard, or her bike, or in her car. She’s loud and obnoxious, and she’s beautifully unapologetic about it in a way Jane could never imagine being herself. And Max is pure energy; bright and buzzing and _ not _this. 

“That’s Max,” Jane sobs, like she’s trying to convince herself, and she burrows herself into Joyce and Hop as they hug her. “Oh, god, Hop, I’m so sorry. I hurt you and I—” 

“Hey, Kid,” He grips her shoulders tightly, leveling himself to make eye contact with her. “I know; it’s fine. I was just trying to warn you that Max is a little worse for wear right now.” 

“Max,” Jane whispers, pulling herself out of their embrace and staggering into a chair beside the bed. There’s gauze covering what El assumes is some kind of gash on Max’s jaw, a sling covering her right arm, and more bandages and cuts along her visible skin. There’s a large wound peeking out from the collar of her hospital gown and curling around her neck that makes El look away. 

Hesitantly, she reaches out a hand to Max’s. Just as she touches the other girl, the door clicks open and Jane flinches back. When she turns around, there’s a man in a white coat that makes her jump again. She hates hospitals for this very reason; it’s too similar to the lab. 

“Afternoon, folks. How are you all doing?” he greets with a thin smile, and a wave of anger crashes over Jane. _ How am I doing? _

“What happened?” Jane asks, with a bite in her voice that makes him draw back slightly. She’s not trying to be rude, but the pressure in her chest is only building the longer Max lies there unconscious. El needs answers. 

“Miss Mayfield’s accident was rather severe; her car was completely totaled. Multiple broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, bruising and skin abrasions from her seatbelt; some internal bleeding we need to keep an eye on. I’d imagine she’s suffering from a concussion and possible whiplash as well, but we can’t be sure until she wakes up.” 

“Max _ is _ going to wake up, right?” Jane can’t find it in herself to care about the way her voice wobbles.

He offers her another tight-lipped smile. “She’s stable, Miss Hopper, which is a good sign, and all we can really do. Whatever comes next is up to her.” 

“Thank you, Doc,” Hopper tells the doctor, and he nods at them again as he leaves the room. Jane feels more tears well up in her eyes and despite her attempts to blink them back, they leave shiny trails on her cheeks as they roll down her face. 

Joyce turns to El, eyebrows drawn tightly the way they do when she’s stressed. She wrings her hands together for a moment, before walking over to her and putting a hand on her arm. “Hey, sweetie, I know this is hard. But Max is a fighter; we all know that.” 

Jane nods as a full sob escapes from her lips and leaves her trembling in Joyce’s arms. After a minute of allowing herself to be held by Joyce, she pulls back and reaches for Max’s hand again. “Can I please be alone with her for a while?” 

Joyce kisses her on the forehead and lets go, walking towards the door and pulling Hop with her. He makes a little grunt of objection, but Joyce looks up at him with something in her eyes that makes him follow out the doorway. “We’re here if you need us.” 

The door closes softly, but it sounds like a gunshot to Jane. She squeezes Max’s hand on instinct, and her heart drops into her stomach when Max doesn’t squeeze back. Logically, Jane knew she wouldn’t, but it’s more of a muscle memory expectation than a rationalization. They’ve endured so much trauma and tragedy in their short lives, whether it be the lab or high school or monsters or any other hell one could name, Max has always been beside her. Jane has always had Max’s hand laced through hers. Now that she doesn’t, the girl with superpowers has never felt so powerless. 

She takes a deep breath. “Hey, Max,” Jane whispers. “I’m still trying to figure out what to say to you, but I’m here, okay.” 

“El?” someone says, and she knows it’s not Max, but Jane can’t help the fragment of hope that cuts into her chest. She turns to locate the voice, and finds her step-brother standing in the doorway. 

“Will,” she breathes, jumping up from the chair. He has something in his hands that he sets down quickly before engulfing her in a hug. Jane shudders against him, more sobs wracking her body as he squeezes her tightly. After a moment, she feels Will trembling too, and his tears drip onto her hair. She pulls away finally, giving them both the chance to wipe at their faces. “Will, I can’t—” 

“I know,” He says, shoving his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. His eyes wander past her and land on Max. “Fuck, I know.” His voice breaks on the last syllable, and Jane can _ feel _it. 

Jane nods, walking back over to the bed and sitting down again. Maybe she’s imagining it, or maybe it’s because her body feels more drained of heat than it did a minute ago, but she swears Max’s hand feels warmer than before. She hears Will pacing behind her; he’s a mover, just like Max. Despite their polar personalities, some of their habits are eerily similar. Will is quiet and reserved, while Max is loud and outgoing, but they both talk with their hands so emphatically, sometimes Jane has to look away to avoid getting a headache. She looks up at him with watery eyes and tells him to let everyone else come in. 

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas all freeze once they catch sight of their friend. Mike and Max butted heads for a long time, but eventually, they became friends. Now, Jane hears him sniffling as he wraps his arms around her. Lucas sinks into a chair beside El and reaches for her other hand without saying anything. There’s an ugly silence enveloping the room, and El is grateful for Dustin as his nervous chatter fills up the quiet. Will hands Jane a coffee from Benny’s, and she reluctantly lets go of Lucas’s hand. 

It’s Max’s favorite place in town (besides maybe Jane’s room.) Benny’s is their spot. El loves breakfast and Max loves coffee. Almost every Saturday morning since eighth grade, Max has picked her up at seven o'clock in the morning and taken her there. El has fond memories of riding on the pegs of Max’s bike before they were old enough to drive. Jane knew how to ride a bike back then; it was one of the first things Hopper taught her. But she never wanted to ride her own bike when Max would come. There was something comfortable and warm and electrifying in having her front pressed against Max’s back and their faces close enough that they could share earbuds on the way. El liked being that close to Max. 

El’s favorite part about the whole ordeal is Max’s tired ramblings before she has her coffee. She’s unfiltered and sleepy and utterly adorable. The first time Max told Jane she loved her was at Benny’s. 

_ It was just after seven, and they were sitting at their usual table at the restaurant. Corner booth, closest to the coffee bar. It was empty and quiet, the only noise being the quiet hum of the sound system, the droning of machines in the kitchen on the opposite end of the room, and Max’s soft voice singing along to whatever was playing. El had always been enraptured with Max’s voice, especially when she’s singing. Even before they started dating, Jane would sometimes ask Max to sing to her. _

_ “Who are we listening to?” Jane asked reluctantly. As much as she wanted to bask in the silky smoothness of Max’s soft voice, her curiosity won out as she couldn’t find the name of the band they were listening to. _

_ “The Clash. They sing—” _

_ “Will’s favorite song,” Jane finished. “Right.” _

_ Max smiled lazily at her, her bottom lip pulling between her teeth as she watched Jane. Benny brought their coffee a moment ago, but Max was still in her early-morning haze. She hadn’t said much, which is unusual; usually morning Max brings adorable ramblings as she tries to cohesively connect her thoughts. _

_ “What are you thinking about?” Jane reached across the table to brush a strand of red hair behind Max’s ear, and the redhead leaned instinctively into her touch. _

_ “You,” Max said with no hesitation. Her face went red as she tried to find more words. “Well, us. I mean, there’s no point in beating around it; it’s so obvious.” _

_ “What?” Jane asked, though a bubbling hope in her stomach told her she knew the answer already. _

_ “I love you. I’m, like, so in love with you that I can’t think about anything else. I love you.” _

_ Max had never said she loved her before. El had said it a few times before, but Max needed more time. A smile tugged at Jane’s lips as she nodded softly. “I love you.” _

_ Jane watched her hands twist around the mug as she smiled down into it. There was no extravagant speech or grand gestures, just them. That’s all El ever could’ve asked for. _

Right now, Jane would give anything to see Max’s ocean blue eyes crinkle around the edges as she turns a coffee mug in her hands. 

After a while, the boys trickle out of the room and only leave Will and her sitting side by side. Will has nodded off in the chair next to her, head bobbing over onto her shoulder from time to time. Jane feels the heavy hands of exhaustion trying to drag her from consciousness, but she wills herself to stay awake. She’s afraid if she sleeps, or even closes her eyes for more than a few seconds, Max will disappear from right in front of her. 

Jane’s been thinking about what she wants to tell Max for a while, but she’s no poet. No, Max is the one who’s always good with words, no matter how many people are listening. Jane doesn’t get it; _ how could anyone not be entranced by what the redheaded girl has to say? _

She looks over at Will, who’s snoring softly in the seat behind her, before gazing back down at her and Max’s hand. Sighing, Jane figures that now’s a good a time as any for her to talk to Max. 

“Hey, Maxie.” Despite herself, Jane smiles at the nickname. If anyone else tried to call her that, Max would probably punch them in the throat, but not Jane. Then again, there’s a lot of things that only she is allowed to do with Max. “The coffee here is shit; Will brought me some from Benny’s. I kinda thought you’d wake up just for the caffeine, but. . .”

She laughs, but it comes out flat, like trying to force the noise out of her throat is the most exhausting thing she’s ever done. 

“I know that the chances of you waking up are pretty high, Max, but fuck, I’m scared. We’ve dealt with enough to know that odds don’t mean shit. And what am I supposed to do if you’re not here? What are any of us supposed to do?” She looks over at Will. His eyebrows are creased, but he still seems solidly asleep. 

“Will, god, he needs you. You’re his best friend, Max. He needs someone to rant to about Mike and come over when he’s so sad, even I can’t cheer him up. And Mike? He needs someone to listen to Wallows with and drive him places. Dustin? That stupid fucking genius needs you to smack him on the back of the head when he forgets that numbers aren’t as important as people. Lucas needs someone to argue with and tell him when he’s being an idiot and make fun of Mike with. They all need you, Max. And fuck. . .” Jane takes a shuddery breath, trying to keep her sobs silent so as not to wake Will. “Fuck, I need you, Max. I need you so much. You’re my best friend and my favorite person and I _ need you. _I need you our Saturday morning breakfast dates and I need you holding my hand under the table. I need your laugh and your smile and your eyes. Max, I don’t think I can breathe without you. I don’t know how I did it for so long before you.” 

Her body folds in on itself and she bites down on her fist to keep the sob from escaping her lips. Jane’s forehead rests against her and Max’s joined hands as she tries to will her body to stop shaking. 

“God, I sound like the people you make fun of in movies. Maybe it’s good you didn’t hear that. Let me start over, okay? I don’t want you to think I’m one of those cheesy assholes, even though we both know I totally am.” Jane laughs, a little more genuine this time, and squeezes her hand. “I’ll try to tone down the gloom this time; I promise.” 

Will sways beside her and his head falls onto the soft fabric of her yellow hoodie. Will brought her a change of clothes, but she refused to leave Max’s room long enough to change into them. She’d barely even get up to go to the bathroom, so she threw the hoodie that smells like Max over her head and left it that. It’s Jane’s sweatshirt, technically, but Max steals it frequently and only really gives it back until it smells like Jane again. El doesn’t mind; when it’s returned to her, it always smells like Max for a little while. 

“Okay, Maxie, your favorite things in the world are coffee, our friends, your camera, and me. If you don’t wake your ass up, we’ll never get to drive to Benny’s on Saturday or drive thirty miles to find a Starbucks. If you don’t wake up, you’ll never get to touch your camera again. You and Jonathan would never go on another documentation trip or work on short films together. You’d never get to go to SoCalArt and I’d have to move to California without you. And that’d be a problem because I don’t know my way around and I’d be utterly fucked. You’ll never get to take another picture of me or do impromptu photoshoots with our friends. Speaking of them, who the fuck would keep them in line? Definitely not me. And c’mon, Max, you’d never get to make fun of Mike again. If anything else I’ve said hasn’t been a good enough reason to wake up, think about that.”

Jane goes silent for a moment, almost like she expects Max to pop up and make a joke about how awkwardly tall Mike is (or awkward in general.) Something shifts in El when she doesn’t, and she clears her throat in an attempt to remove the lump from it. 

“Max, this isn’t me getting gross again, I promise. I know you wouldn’t want all the tears and sad shit. But I need you. A lot. And I’m not ready to not get to do these things with you. I want more kisses and coffee and photos. So, uh, just know that I love you so much. More than Eggos. If you wake up, I’m making you promise me that you’ll never die. Please wake up and make me that promise.”

She’s full-on crying again, and this time she can’t stop the sounds from escaping. It startles Will awake and he pulls her into him, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. The warmth of Will’s arms and the smell of Max’s shampoo on her sweatshirt send her into a haze, and eventually, Jane slips into unconsciousness. 

She dreams of red hair, breakfast, and the ocean. 

  


There’s light streaming into the room when Jane comes to. It takes her a moment to reorient herself, but when she finally brings herself back to reality she finds Will missing from the chair beside her. There’s a food tray on the table beside Max’s bed and Jane feels something tickling against her hand. She looks down and sees Max’s thumb running across her knuckles. 

_ Wait. _

Jane looks up so quickly she gets a kink in her neck but there’s no way she could care about it when she finds stark blue eyes staring back at her. 

“Hey,” Max says, offering her a sheepish half-smile. El has to restrain herself from jumping on top of Max and kissing the smirk off her face as she topples out of the chair and pulls herself closer to the other girl. 

“_ Hey _?” Jane says, maybe a bit hysterically. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I knew you’d be exhausted, and uh, you looked really cute and peaceful.” Max’s smile widens into a lopsided grin and El can’t help herself from practically flailing onto Max. The redhead groans in pain, but wraps her arms tightly around Jane when the brunette tries to pull away. 

“You scared me,” Jane mumbles through her smile, kissing Max on her eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” Max whispers, and Jane’s newly shed tears drip onto Max’s face. 

“Don’t be,” Jane mutters back, kissing her slowly. It’s soft and slow and _ holy fuck Max needs to brush her teeth after that hospital food,_ but it’s real and Max is _okay. _She reaches up to cup Max’s face when the redhead whimpers in pain and flinches back. El worms herself off of Max, slurred apologies flying out of her mouth. 

“It’s okay. I’m just _really _sore,” Max tells her. She seems to decide something and then she pulls the front of her hospital gown down, revealing more of the injured skin Jane saw peeking out earlier. “Maybe seatbelts are the real villains, but in disguise,” She jokes. 

“The doctor said it saved your life,” Jane clips, and it comes out a little harsher than she intended. Max flinches again, and El’s stomach drops onto the dull white floor. 

“Hey, come here, Lev,” Max tells her, reaching out a shaky hand. Lev, short for Eleven, is a nickname Max came up with when they were in ninth grade. She said it had Russian origins, which Max thought was fitting, seeing as that’s where everyone thought she was from at first. What Max didn’t disclose until later, though, is that it translates to ‘heart’. Max also thought that was fitting. 

El takes her hand, pulling the chair up so close to Max’s bed her knees press into the frame. 

“I’m sorry I scared you. I never wanted to do that.” 

“I just. . . I can’t lose you.” 

Max pulls Jane’s wrist toward her chest, toward the cut from her seatbelt, and sets her hand there. She winces a little, but El understands what she’s trying to do. Max’s heartbeat is steady. Maybe a little fainter than normal, but steady. She’s _ alive. _ “I know.” 

“Promise me you won’t ever die,” El whispers to her. Max softens as she brings Jane’s hand up to her lips. 

“I can’t make you promises I don’t know if I can keep,” she says, her words soft and cautious. “But, I will make you _ a _promise.” 

_ What? _El tries to say, but the word lodges in her throat. 

“I’ll certainly try my best not to.” Max offers her a little smile, full of hope and love and maybe a little bit of something else. “If you promise to do the same.” 

“Deal,” El tells her, smiling back. She leans over the bed and kisses Max squarely on the mouth. 

“Promise?” Max asks, grinning against her lips. El loops their pinkies together in Max’s lap, kissing her again. 

“Promise.” 

“I love you, Lev.” 

“I love you, Max.” 

The promise may not be perfect, but it’s theirs. That’s all Jane can ask for. And, after today, she decides that maybe their odds aren’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i would die for them.


End file.
